A Ballerina's Farewell
by sky blue star
Summary: Paul has one final gift for Cathy.


This story takes place towards the end of Petals on the Wind. (Shortly after Paul's death.)

_Suggested Listening -Close My Eyes by Gloria Estephan_

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I still remember that day we left Paul's home in North Carolina. A slight drizzle fell on Chris and I as he put Jory and Bart into their car seats. We were heading off to our new home in California. It was far away from our tragic existence, far away from our memories, far away from…mother. 

After Chris fastened Jory in, he ruffled my son's hair, and Jory laughed. I smiled and turned back to the house. Something was calling me, begging me to return one last time.

"I'll be a moment, Chris." I said, walking away from the car.

"Cathy," Chris began. He reached out and gently took my arm. His eyes said it all. 'Don't do this to yourself, Cathy. Learn to forgive. Forget the past.'

But he knew me. I could never forget. Never!

"It's all right, Chris." I told him. "I just want to make sure we didn't forget anything."

"Alright. But don't take too long. We don't want to miss our flight." He smiled and turned his attention back to the children.

I made my way to the porch. I remembered the first day we came here. How we had been thrown off the bus, how we walked up these steps. Chris had held Carrie in his arms, both of us certain she was close to joining Cory in heaven along with our father.

Funny that I could now laugh at the moment Paul and I met, though the circumstances were far from amusing. There he was, sound asleep. I had been scared to wake him. I could never forget when he finally did wake up and laid eyes on me. He looked so handsome with his blond hair and hazel eyes. I lost part of my heart to him then and there. I unlocked the door and entered the house.

It seemed so empty now. I almost expected Carrie or Henny to come out of nowhere at any moment and greet me with a hug. But I knew it would be a long time before I saw either again. I swallowed my bittersweet thoughts and continued inside.

I first went upstairs to have a look around. I stopped just outside the door of the room that had been mine and Carrie's. That first night away from Chris had been painful for the both us. I knew Paul had suspected of my relationship with my brother. He had excused himself to give us a moment alone. Even then, Paul knew. Chris and I should have known we couldn't hide such a secret from everyone forever. 'God forbid Jory and Bart should ever find out.' I thought.

I entered the bedroom. The memories I had of Carrie came rushing back to me. Even though the room had blue wallpaper, I still recalled how much she loved purple and red. I remembered holding her at night, in my arms when she would have a nightmare of the grandmother and the attic.

How I missed my little twins, being their mother, and placing sweet kisses in their golden hair. How could our mother just abandon them? All they had ever wanted, all we had ever wanted was her love and affection. But all she had ever cared about was money, and getting rich, rich, rich! But at least now the grandmother was gone, and my mother was in a place where she could never hurt us again.

After I had checked around, I then went downstairs, looking about. I made sure nothing was left behind. I could hear the grandmother yelling at me in my head. 'Fool! Trying to relive every moment you had with Paul! Why did you even marry Julian and seduce Bart Winslow in the first place if you didn't love them?'

'No!' I thought. I did love both in my own way. Julian, though he had been very abusive, was in a way much like myself, in search of love and approval from a parent which he knew he would never get. In the end, yes, I had loved Julian, but it was love out of pity. I would make sure his son would never feel so desperate for my attention.

I loved Bart as well, but he had become the innocent pawn in my quest for revenge against my mother. I had used all the charms, all the techniques I had learned from her to lure him in. And then, he too, met a tragic end, just like both of my husbands. Julian and Bart meant a lot to me. Without them, I never would have had my sons. But deep down, I had still yearned for Paul.

I finally came upon his office. I opened the door and stepped in. My heart fell. I had wished for time to turn back, and there Paul would be in his chair, his nose in a medical book. He'd look up at me and smile. Then, he'd walk over and take me into his arms. But the room was empty, and only my memories remained.

Just as I turned to leave, something caught my eye. A small envelope was on one of the shelves built into the wall. I went over and picked it up. It appeared to be at least ten years old. I opened it.

Inside was a small drawing of a ballerina, and a handwritten note. The small signature on the drawing read "Paul Sheffield". Paul! Paul had drawn this! It was so lovely. I didn't know he had such an artist's eye for detail. I could only assume the ballerina was me, for she had blond hair and blue eyes, and looked as though she could have very well been one of the Dresden Dolls.

I then unfolded the note. It was a poem he had written. I began to read it.

_Ballerina  
Reach up to the sky,  
smile for the crowd,  
hide the need to cry.  
The spotlight is on you.  
Don't make a mistake.  
For on the stage,  
there is only one take_

_Ballerina,  
why do you look so sad?  
It's like you remember  
a life you once had,  
full of flowers and love,  
a time in which you were more glad?_

_Oh well, ballerina,  
wipe the tear from your eye,  
and reach up ballerina.  
Reach up to the sky._

Tears began to flow on that old piece of paper. Mine. "Oh, Paul! Paul!" I said. I loved him the best that I could. But I knew deep down, I could have loved him so much more. Not until that moment did I comprehend just how much he understood me, how much he had loved me in return. I clutched both papers to my chest. In a way, I was holding Paul close to myself.

The sound of a car horn came from outside. I turned around and put the lost papers into my purse. Along with the ring my father had given me, they were the things I would come to treasure most for the rest of my life. Those, and my family.

I exited the house and locked the door behind me. Chris met me at the bottom of the porch. "Sorry, Cathy. It's time to go." He noticed the look on my face. "Don't be sad, Cathy. Our children will notice." He took me into his arms. "We'll be starting over now. We'll be starting a new life." He kissed my cheek and then we got into the car.

Oh yes. A new life. A new beginning. That was what we had dreamed of the day we entered Foxworth Hall, and the day we arrived here. I wish I had Chris' ability to forgive and forget, but I can't. I know I must try for my sons, for Chris, for the good of my own soul. But somehow, I manage to fail every time.

As Chris pulled out of the driveway, I looked back at the house one last time. The sun had finally broken through the rain and a small rainbow could be seen. I was then reminded of something Paul had once told me.

"I'll never hear your kind of music again without thinking of you…"

I smiled then. Never again would I see a beautiful pair of hazel eyes or a warm smile and not think of him.

I turned and watched the house fall out of sight. "I love you, Paul." I said, barely above a whisper. "Thank you…for everything."

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End file.
